


Two's Company, Three's A Crowd

by TomarryHereWeWhoaAgain



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Among Us (Video Game) Setting, Crewmates - Freeform, I can't tag to save my damn life, I swear there will be romance, Imposter, M/M, Mira HQ (Among Us), Murder, Murder Mystery???, Polus (Among Us), The Skeld (Among Us), no magic, whodunit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:47:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27278974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TomarryHereWeWhoaAgain/pseuds/TomarryHereWeWhoaAgain
Summary: Harry wakes aboard The Skeld. He doesn't remember what happened during his final days on Polus Outpost, but that seems to be the least of his issues when his new Crewmates start turning up dead.Yet with his memories missing and a murderer on the loose, how is his biggest concern a fellow Crewmate who can't seem to leave him alone?
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Comments: 11
Kudos: 54
Collections: distractions 💬 halloween big bang 2020





	Two's Company, Three's A Crowd

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [cealesti](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cealesti/pseuds/cealesti) in the [Distractions_Halloween_2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Distractions_Halloween_2020) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> That's it, that's the tweet. 
> 
> This can turn out scary and horror, can be fluffy, angsty, crack - it's up to you. Likewise, either Harry or Tom can be Impostors, or they can both be Crewmates, or they can both be Impostors - go wild! have fun!
> 
> \---
> 
> I have no idea what I'm doing. But I do. But I don't. I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS THOUGH.

"-Did you get all of that, Green?"

Harry pried his eyes away from the steady spikes and dips of his heart rate; the loud _beep - beep - beep_ faded to the background for just a moment, just long enough to catch Blue's words.

"Yep," he nodded. He very much did _not_ get all of that.

"Okay, good. That's really good." Harry couldn't make out any facial features behind the large MIRA standard helmet, but Blue's shoulders dropped slightly. He knew to read it as relief. 

What Blue doesn't know won't hurt them though.

"Um-" They continued, "If anything starts coming back to you, please let me know as soon as possible." Harry still wasn't fully listening, too busy following Blue's gloved hand as it reached up toward their helmet and back to the grip on their clipboard in a swift aborted motion. 

He felt for them. Whenever he had that obnoxious thing on, Harry always needed to straighten his glasses but wasn't able to. He imagined they might feel the need to do something similar: adjust glasses, fix their hair, scratch their cheek, any number of things.

But Crew had the helmets for good reasons; Harry truly wished he had his now if only to hide from this awkward conversation.

"Even if you don't remember anything now, you- well. You went through a terrible situation, _horrible_. It would only be natural to need to unpack anything that comes forward, any PTSD or--"

"I will; I'll come to you. I won't bottle it up, thank you." Harry tried to be polite, tried to smile it away, but his feelings weren't listening. They were screaming behind a thick concrete wall, and he was barely picking up the sounds, muffled cries for help.

They bought it anyway, "Of course! You must be exhausted, all these questions after you just woke up. I'm so sorry." Harry could tell they meant it; they genuinely felt bad. Empathy for him, for someone who doesn't even know what happened or what he was feeling or why. 

He wasn't exhausted before honestly, but Harry thinks he might be a little bit exhausted now.

"Final things, then I'll be out of your hair. As I'm sure you've gathered, we haven't been permitted to remove our helmets around you just yet. We're waiting on a final test to come back negative; we need to make sure you don't have anything dangerous lingering on you from Polus Outpost-- It's known for its gaseous toxins after all."

 _That_ was a surprise; Harry couldn't remember the last time he saw someone's face. MIRA commands were strict on planet Polus, he knew, but to hear they were so laid back wherever he was currently? It was something of a shock. Personal information wasn't to be disclosed during their time away from HQ; the people working were anonymous and remained that way.

_Was he asleep that long? Was he in MIRA HQ?_

Blue stood, getting up from the empty cot beside him. They continued their speech until they were standing just before the doors, "Hopefully, we'll see the results in the next few hours. Until then, sit tight, enjoy the food, and take a browse through the folders I've left beside your cot. They'll help you get settled." The entire time Harry could hear the friendly smile in their voice; Blue left the room with a small wave.

And just like that, he was alone at last.

Harry ignored the food, removed his sheets and tested his movement, swinging his legs over the side of his bed. He was barefoot, but the shining metal floors seemed safe enough, little danger here. He attempted standing, bracing for any pain or dizziness, any weakness from days of being unconscious-- but was surprised to find he was perfectly fine. No pain, nothing. He stood with ease. 

He was clearly in a MedBay. All MIRA locations had one built-in, each virtually the same and equipped with at least four beds or cots, a MedScan and a Sample Inspector. This bay was vastly different that then one built on Polus though.

The MedBay; rarely needed, seldom used, the handbooks said. Better to be safe than sorry, but how could one _possibly_ get hurt repairing and maintaining ships, bases, and inspecting and researching specimen? 

Harry was grateful for their 'just in case' mindset, it seemed.

He caught sight of a sample currently inspecting, the red flashing countdown implying it wouldn't be long until someone else waltzed through the door. Harry didn't have much time to waste. 

Quick glances revealed no cameras, and it put him at ease only slightly. At least he knew there was no 24hour video surveillance of him. His face scrunched up at the thought of someone watching him sleep the past few days while he shuffled through Blue's folders. 

All the sheets were laminated and sparkling, obviously not handed out often. They gave general information about Harry's new location, his new _mobile_ location. With a heavy sigh, he processed what this all meant.

He was currently aboard MIRA's most prized vessel, The Skeld.

 _'The hell did I get myself into now. What even happened?'_ Harry tried to remember when everything went wrong, when it all fell apart. But the last memory he had was with Cyan on Polus, an immense feeling of _joy_. They were successful; _they had_ _done_ it. 

And yet, the 'what' they had done, and everything after was a dark empty expanse in Harry's memories. As vast and unforgiving as the deep space he currently drifted in.

Harry wondered at the odds of being adopted into this Crew. It seemed too perfect that the apparent distress call from Polus made contact with MIRA's second in command rather than any other Dropship. Very convenient that.

Though Harry wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth, standard Dropships did not always come equipped with MedBays, and from Blue's words, they seemed reasonably confident he needed one. But what Harry needed most was information. His whole situation was too hush-hush; Blue didn't explain anything nearly well enough for his tastes. Regardless of the fact that he was barely listening to them, Blue wasn't going to give him any _useful_ knowledge anyway.

He was the only one that made it off Polus alive, after all.

Harry sighed, looking up from the files. As always, the room was barebones, nothing unnecessary. MIRA prided itself in being efficient, practical. In between the heart rate monitor's sounds, the only other noise was a small humming.

 _'Humming? Where would-- ah.'_ Harry dropped the folder and files back on his bed and rounded to the other side. Just beside his monitor, carefully set into the metal floor, was a vent. It was no small vent either, certainly large enough to drop into with ease. _'For maintenance?'_ Harry pondered. _'Seems like an odd design choice otherwise, a bit overkill.'_

Mindful of the wireless patches stuck to his skin, he crouched near the vent, elbows on his thighs. Harry held his hand over the grate and felt a draft, _'Oxygen maybe?'_

It certainly couldn't be Air Conditioning. Their suits came with a temperature regulator built for any atmospheric conditions (something Harry was missing now in the cold of this room, clad in a simple green hospital gown); the vents must be how they flow oxygen. If the Crew onboard goes as helmet-less as they say then it would only make sense that oxygen flow from _somewhere._

Harry carefully attempted to lift the grate, to his surprise, it came up with ease.

A frantic alarm set off on the opposite wall of the room; he startled. The Sample Inspection was complete, and someone would surely be here at any moment to verify it. 

Harry quickly but quietly fixed the grate and slipped into his bed. He shuffled the files back into place and eyed the laid out food. It was some sort of soup, pale green and more cream than a liquid. Harry hesitantly took a bite, but the nausea was instant and _vicious._ He dropped the bowl back down and swallowed passed the intense rejection his body demanded.

_'What on earth is that?! It's vile.'_

With the world now spinning and the sound of the MedBay door now sliding open, Harry fell backwards and closed his eyes intending to feign sleep.

But sleep took him anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr (I live here): [@TomarryHereWeWhoaAgain](https://tomarryherewewhoaagain.tumblr.com/)  
> Or on Discord: [The Room of Requirement](https://discord.gg/2suak9y)  
> 


End file.
